


Treasure

by minutiae



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Dragon Jaskier | Dandelion, Fluff, Gen, Sad with a Happy Ending, Vesemir is Good Dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25977862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minutiae/pseuds/minutiae
Summary: Jaskier is not a baby, he is forty two years old and that is PLENTY old enough.However, he knows how important consent is, so what does he do when his favorite treasure no longer wants to be treasured? :(100% silly fluff
Relationships: Eskel & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Lambert, Jaskier | Dandelion & Vesemir
Comments: 120
Kudos: 629





	Treasure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aroomie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aroomie/gifts).



“Well alright, Geralt. I guess I’ll get the rest of the story from the others.”  
  
Borsch waved as he walked past, but he just glared at the old dragon. There are much gentler ways to tell harsh truths. The old man had been unnecessarily blunt with what he already knew was a tense situation. Jaskier did _not_ want to talk.  
  
Jaskier gathered up his belongings, and walked down the mountain to wait with Roach. Slowly, everyone else appeared, and he chatted and smiled with them as they all left. It wasn’t until the next morning that Geralt showed up.  
  
He saw the bard sitting, smiling, at a small campfire. His face creased into a glare. “I told you not to touch Roach.”  
  
Jaskier’s face dropped. “Well, it was that or the Reavers took her. So. I do have a question for you, though.”  
  
“Spit it out, we need to leave.”  
  
“That’s rather it, darling, while I do love traveling with you I need clarification- you are…. Withdrawing your consent to be treasured by me?”  
  
“What the fuck kind of question is that, Jaskier?”  
  
“Really not a difficult one, darling. You know I have enjoyed taking care of you. With all the washing and the singing. Bit of chamomile rub. However, if you truly want me off your hands, I will respect that.”  
  
“I haven’t been able to get rid of you yet, why would you go now?”  
  
“Why, because I think you actually mean it, this time. Alright. Well.” Jaskier dusts off his pants, standing up. “Guess that’s it then. Goodbye, Geralt.”  
  
Jaskier shouldered his lute, and walked away.

\-----------  
  
Jaskier really didn’t intend to stumble on another witcher. But he’d just decided to get away quickly, so over the mountains into Aedd Gynvael it was. He’d been lounging in a small tavern when yet another white haired witcher walked in.  
  
The man was clearly used to finding the back corner for himself, and raised an eyebrow at the brightly colored bard parked there. “Oh, hello. I don’t mind sharing.” Jaskier waved him down imperiously as the witcher studied him.  
  
“Been awhile since I’ve seen a dragon around here.”  
  
“Ah, you’re more perceptive than your younger look alike, you know.”  
  
“You’ve met Geralt?”  
  
“Met? Well, Yes. We wandered the continent, for what has it been? Over two decades now?” Jaskier flapped a hand. “Tales of heartbreak and heroics. I wrote a few songs, he punched me, you know how it is. Life of a young dragon is hard. Though. I’d really rather that kept between us.”  
  
“How old are you, exactly? Your magic is so faint.”  
  
“I am _forty two._ Plenty old enough to be traveling on my own, thank you. Don’t start that ageism nonsense to me, what are you? Have to be over 300.”  
  
“Asking is rude, child, you know this.”  
  
Jaskier flops on the table. “Yes, probably. I’m the worst. Already lost my tiny treasure. I loved him, he was so pretty and clever.”  
  
“That explains the scent, then. Travel with me, little one. I am not keen on the idea of one as young as you out by yourself. If Geralt doesn’t want to travel with you, you can stay with me, or I have two other more sensible sons.” Vesemir paused. “One. One more sensible son. I am not sending you anywhere with _Lambert._ He gets in quite enough trouble with that Cat that he thinks we don’t know about.”  
  
Jaskier perked up. “Oh, really? You wouldn’t mind music, now and then?”  
  
“I’m not blind, boy. I saw the lute before I came over. I see who you are, don’t worry.”  
  
Jaskier would have been delighted to have a new friend, but it quickly became apparent that Vesemir had adopted a new son. He was bullied into better boots, and taught how to use a dagger. “If you’re going to prance around in this form, you need to protect yourself.”  
  
Jaskier couldn’t even make faces behind his back because the old man _always knew._ _  
__  
_But the months passed and they traveled around Kaedwen, Jaskier slowly getting better with a sword. Finally, Vesemir asked him exactly how big he was. Jaskier delightedly transformed, preening as Vesemir checked him over. He was still very small for a dragon, but twice the size of a royal wyvern. He’d get bigger with age, but for now he was still small enough to hide easily in forests. Vesemir inspected his claws and wings, running a hand over the smooth scales of his face. “You look hale, boy. Now, I was asking because I need to take supplies up the mountain for the winter. You feel like helping carry?”  
  
Jaskier leaped back into human form. “Oh, Vesemir. How long do you hide for winter? Perhaps we can get some wine. There’s a lovely vineyard in Toussiant that I just adore, the owner is a friend of my mothers and she’s always happy to pack a crate for me.  
  
“Toussiant? A bit far for supplies, child. We only have a month before the pass likely closes.”  
  
“Oh Ves, it’ll only take a few days there, a few back. A week, tops. It’s more fun to go with a friend, please?”  
  
“You know, this kind of nonsense is exactly why I do not want you meeting Lambert.”  
  
“That’s not a no, you know.”  
  
Vesemir scrubbed his face. “If I say no, you’re going to go alone, aren’t you.”  
  
Jaskier’s whole face brightened, and he nodded.  
  
“I’m going to regret this, son. But alright.”  
  
\-----------------  
  
Vesemir really shouldn’t be showing that brightly colored bard how much he was enjoying Touissant. He’d be tempted to stay this far south for the winter, but with no notice, Lambert and Eskel would be unlikely to have the keep’s stores prepared for the winter. Maybe next winter. Touissant really was lovely.  
  
Jaskier dragged around the witcher, his smile faltering when the vineyard owner asked if this was the white wolf Jaskier sung songs about. Vesemir smoothly covered, rubbing a hand on the small dragon’s back. “Oh, that’s my son. This young lad came to give an old witcher a lovely trip. He’s a wonderful one to have around, isn’t he?” Jaskier blushed at the praise. 

Later that night in the small room that they’d arranged for the night, he sat curled up on his bed, picking a soft tune on the lute. “Vesemir, I. I’m sorry I tried not to but”  
  
Vesemir glanced over from his own bed, looking up from the book he was reading. “Treasure?” he said softly.  
  
Jaskier nodded with tears in his eyes. 

“Oh, come here boy.” Jaskier bounded over, climbing onto the bed to curl up against Vesemir’s side. “I don’t mind. You’re a delight to have around. Don’t know what got into that idiot boy of mine’s head, but you’re a sweet lad. I’m honored for your affections. Though I warn you, this winter you will have to use your words if you find yourself drawn to my other two boys.”  
  
Jaskier fell asleep curled around the older witcher’s lap, as he pet his hair gently. Vesemir was glad for the little dragon’s affections. One losing their treasure so young could break them. Jaskier seemed quite strong, but it’s still best they have something or someone to pour their affections onto.  
  
\-----------  
  
Weeks later, they’d managed to stuff the keep full of supplies and the two crates of wine they brought back from Touissant. Jaskier had said two were no problem, but it took him twice as long to get back, and he slept for a full day after. Vesemir just laughed, but the wine over the winter would be very nice.  
  
Eskel arrived first, leading a huge black stallion and carrying a small black goat. “Hello Eskel!” Jaskier had seen him coming, and waited in the stables for him. Eskel handed him the goat.  
  
“So. The old man found a dragon to bring to the keep?”  
  
“Oh, he said you’d know right away. I’m Jaskier.”  
  
“Wait. The bard? Geralt’s bard?”  
  
“Well, no. Geralt no longer wanted me, but I got lucky. Met Vesemir, and here I am.”  
  
“He’s just a babe, Eskel. Be gentle with him," Vesemir laughed, having come to take Lil Bleater to the goat enclosure.  
  
“I am _forty two.”_ _  
__  
_Both men nodded solemnly and said in unison, “A baby.” _  
__  
_Despite Eskel’s insistence that Jaskier was now a baby, and treated him as such, Jaskier delighted in having another friend. It only took a week before he snuck into Eskel’s bedroom in the middle of the night, eyes shining.  
  
“Jaskier, the hell. Go to bed.”  
  
“But. Treasure?”  
  
Eskel sighed. “Of course, little one. Are you needing hugs?”  
  
Jaskier nodded. “I’m not little, though.”  
  
“You woke me up in the middle of the night to ask permission for you to care about me. You know we care about you already. Vesemir calls you son. I’ve told you, you’re now the littlest brother. Just. Perhaps don’t let Lambert hear that.”

_  
_\-----------------------------

Lambert was the next to arrive, stomping into the keep with a bag full of moonshine only to see Jaskier and Vesemir sparring in the courtyard. “Hey old man, who is the peacock?”  
  
Jaskier waved, and Vesemir called him over. “This is Jaskier. He’s here as my guest. Do not pick a fight with him, you will lose.”  
  
Lambert looked at the bard skeptically, but went on his way. It took four days before Jaskier had Lambert held in his teeth, dangling him over the edge of the keep wall. He growled, flapping his wings to keep balance. He was quite a bit bigger than Lambert, but Lambert was still heavy.  
  
It was Eskel that saw him and cackled. “Drop him, Jas!”  
  
“You better fuckin’ not!”  
  
“Well what the hell did you say to him, Lambert?”  
  
“I didn’t say shit!”  
  
Jaskier delicately pounced down into the courtyard, dropping Lambert and letting him tumble to a stop in front of Eskel.  
  
“So you gonna tell me what this is about, Lambert? Or do I let the dragon play with you.”  
  
“It’s not my fault he’s too dumb to understand flirting!” Lambert’s eyes went wide. He almost certainly didn’t mean to say that, but Eskel just laughed.  
  
“You didn’t realize you were flirting with a dragon, did you?”  
  
Lambert grumbled.  
  
\---------  
  
  
The snow had just started filling the pass. It was late this year, but everyone was concerned that Geralt still hadn’t arrived. Jaskier spent much of his time on the top of the keep, peering down the mountain. He didn’t want to risk spooking Roach, so he didn’t go looking. Eventually, he saw them both through a gap in the trees and keened. 

He carefully picked his way down the side of the keep, and curled up in the center courtyard. Vesemir, Eskel and Lambert had come running, beating him there by moments.  
  
“Did you see him, Jaskier?” Vesemir patted him.  
  
Jaskier nodded, and curled up close to the keep door. He always looked quite catlike when he did this. The little dragon stretched one wing out, and made a mournful noise until all three witchers sighed and climbed in close. Vesemir and Eskel curled up against his stomach, under the wing held up to block the wind and cold. Vesemir liked to tuck himself against Jaskier’s back leg, the angle making a good spot for a nap.

Lambert, however, took his favored spot, in the crook of Jaskier’s neck. From this angle it was almost like Jaskier was curled into Lambert’s lap. He pet the soft scales of the bard’s face until he heard the approaching hoofbeats.  
  
They had left the gate open for Geralt, and when Lambert tried to rise up to help him, Jaskier curled tighter around him, trying to keep him still. “I’ll stay, calm down. You know I’m not going anywhere.”  
  
The increased nerves and twitching woke the others, though, but at a pointed gesture from Lambert, they did not attempt to leave.  
  
Geralt finally came around the corner, swords out, clearly aware something is wrong. He scents the air at the same time as he sees the very small red dragon curled around his family.  
  
“The actual fuck, Vesemir.”  
  
“I’m getting up now, boy. Be calm.”  
  
“ _Be calm?_ You are telling a dragon to be calm.”  
  
The dragon seemed to wrap itself tighter, earning a squawk from Lambert. Geralt snarled, stepping forward at the same time as Vesemir shoved him back, and the dragon disappeared into a bright pop, Jaskier appearing. The bard startled, diving behind Eskel whose pillow suddenly disappeared.  
  
“That makes this conversation a lot easier, thank you, Jaskier.”  
  
“Jaskier… is a dragon?” Geralt stopped, thinking back, then his face went ashen. “Oh. _Treasure.”_ _  
__  
_Vesemir just watched his son puzzle it out. “Yes, Geralt. And you’ve removed yourself from his care. Do you think you want to try and earn it back, or are you going to make this winter very awkward for all of us?”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Don’t hurt yourself, boy. Figure it out. But he’s family now, so. Get your shit together.” Vesemir stalked off.  
  
Lambert had zero patience left for all of this, and hauled a scrambling Jaskier in front of Geralt. “Look, moron. This is baby. You will not hurt baby, because _this is baby.”_  
  
Eskel just dropped his face in his palms, groaning at the morons in front of him. 


End file.
